


I could offer you a warm embrace (to make you feel my love)

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:26:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22428559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Kudos: 5





	I could offer you a warm embrace (to make you feel my love)

Today is a bad day for Louis.

But to be fair, every day is a bad day for Louis, today being no exception. He woke up freezing cold on the shitty mattress in his shitty flat in his shitty flat complex, where everything smells of piss, drugs and sex. Louis' used to it, but that doesn't mean he likes it.

There's also the fact that he's now got no electricity, no heating and no hot running water, so for the third day in a row, Louis has to have his poor-excuse for a wash in the sink, with ice-cold water, shivering the entire time. He brushes his teeth, rolling the tube over and over because he just can't afford to buy another one.

He doesn't have breakfast because he finished off the last of the bland as fuck cornflakes he had two days ago and there's no way he could afford milk, so tea was out of the option to. He slept in his clothes but he decides there's just no way he can wear the outfit he has on for yet another day, so he grabs a new pair of boxers off the floor and some random ripped skinnies, tugging them on, though they're kind of loose now. He grabs a white tee, bringing it to his nose, deciding it smells good enough and pulling it on.

It's dark outside as Louis steps out of his flat, locking the door behind him, snorting to himself a little at the thought of someone breaking into his house only to find a few broken needles, empty cig packets and half-finished beer bottles; he doesn't even know why he bothers locking the door anymore. He shrugs on his denim jacket, which he'd picked up from a charity shop for only a couple of quid, wishing it was warmer.

He avoids eye-contact with anyone else who happens to be in the stairwell of the flat complex, keeping his head down, watching as his beaten white converse hit the steps one by one. When he stepped out into the night air he shivered bodily, stuffing his hands into his pockets and heading down the street, glad they were lit by the yellow glow of the lamp posts.

His breath came out in puffs of white smoke as he walked, floating up above his head, contrasting the black sky as it moved. Louis ignored the yells of the drunken people hanging outside of bars, he ignored the laughter spilling from it's doors and the inviting warmth, just kept walking. He used to let himself stare longingly inside, wondering what it would be like to be able to go for a drink with mates, sit comfortably with a pint of beer in his hand and chat, making jokes and laughing loudly, throwing his head back and not caring what other people thought or about having enough money to make it through the next day.

But he's stopped that now, he had to. He'd never have that life.

Louis finally makes it to the small alleyway, turning into it and pushing back his emotions as he knocks on the door, keeping his face blank. The door opens and Seth nods to him.

"Bitter tonight," he comments as he closes the door and Louis nods his agreement, choosing not to speak. He's not in the mood. Seth gets that. He doesn't press him further. "Pretty busy this evening, sorry mate, s'not going to be an easy shift," he tells him, walking Louis along the corridor which is dimly lit, music already pounding through his whole body. They reach the door to the club and Louis pauses, finally speaking.

"Anyone I should stay away from?"

"Just the usuals," he replies and Louis nods before pushing the door open and heading inside, leaving Seth to go back to the door. Louis keeps his head down as he shoulders past all the men in the club, the music pounding in his ears, ignoring the gropes to his body, making it to the dressing room doors after what feels like a lifetime.

He lets out a heavy breath when he steps in, giving Zayn a small smile.

"You look tired," he comments, "Lou's gunna kill you," he says, reaching out to brush the dark circles under his eyes. Louis manages a small smile, shrugging his shoulders.

"S'life," Louis tells him, moving more into the room, shrugging off his jacket, glad that there's at least some heating.

"Fucking hell, Louis, did you get into a fight?" Lou gasps as she spots Louis before he sits at his table. She turns him in the chair, eyes studying the purple rings surrounding his own.

"Nah, just not sleeping so well."

"I'll say. Let's just hope this concealer works some wonders," she mutters, routing through her makeup bag for her thickest concealer. She finds it, uncapping it and rolling it under Louis' eyes, dabbing it in carefully. Her touch is nice; soothing, nice enough to send him to sleep. "Well, it's better, but please try and get some sleep, Louis, it could make the difference between fifty and one hundred," she says when she's done, leaning back, examining his face.

Louis huffs, "M'worth more than fucking fifty."

"I know, sweetheart, I'm just saying help yourself help yourself," she says gently and Louis sighs, nodding. He turns to the smudged mirror, dirty with hand prints and dust, ruffling his fringe, reaching for the hairspray to fix it in place. He knows the way he looks make a huge difference to how much people pay, but sleeping in a flat with no heating and no proper bed, well. There was only so much he could do.

Simon walks in then, all the other boys in the room turning to look at him. Louis doesn't hate Simon, he's a good boss, but there's only so much you can like a pimp.

"Alright boys, there's a lot of guys out there tonight, it's going to be busy but there's a lot of money to be made, hopefully you'll all do well, get yourselves enough to take a couple days off, maybe," he says, smiling, flicking his eyes to Louis briefly. Louis drops his own eyes, picking at the fraying material of his worn t-shirt. Simon knows Louis isn't well off, and that was putting it lightly. He knows Louis struggles to pay for his next meal more often than not, and he looks out for him.

"Right, outfits guys," Louise announces and Simon gives Louis one small nod before leaving the room. Louis sighs, standing and tugging his t-shirt over his head. When he's stuffed his t-shirt into his rucksack he looks up to meet Lou's disappointed stare.

"What?" Louis spits, snatching the tight black boxers from her hands, tugging off his jeans quickly and switching his boxers. He doesn't care about modesty; the job he has now means he doesn't have any of that left anymore anyway.

"Louis... You're-"

"I'm what?" Louis cuts her off, reaching for the bronzing spray he hates because it irritates his skin.

"You're thin and-" She reaches out and takes Louis' arm, turning it over and viewing the deep bruise on the inside of the crook of his elbow, the veins around it all an unhealthy looking purple. Louis rips his arm away, carefully applying some spray to it, rubbing it in gingerly, not wanting to irritate the injury. "What is that?" She whispers, eyeing the wound.

"Nothing," Louis mutters, moving on to tanning the rest of his body, hiding the bruises.

"You're- Needles?" She asks and Louis clenches his jaw, not meeting her eyes.

"Louise, sometimes you have to know when things aren't your business," he tells her, handing her the bronzing spray, checking himself int he mirror again. He knows he's being rude and he knows Lou only means well, but he just don't have the time to let someone get in the way of his job. It's the only thing he has left.

"If you ever need someone to talk to-"

"Think I should head out, thanks for the concealer," he tells her and Lou closes her mouth, nodding in understanding; Louis doesn't want to talk about it.

He takes a deep breath before leaving the dressing room, heading to the back of the stage. Simon is stood behind the curtain, nodding as each boy steps out, eyeing them over to check they're all good to go. Louis' about to walk out before he stops him with an arm in front of his chest.

"Are you eating, Louis?" He asks and Louis sighs, shrugging.

"Yeah, I guess."

"You guess?" He repeats, raising a brow. Louis nods, shrugging again; non-committal

"Louis I-" He stops himself, taking Louis by the forearm and tugging him to the side. Louis looks to him expectantly, impatient, "if you don't start eating I won't- I can't employ you," he says and Louis frowns, folding his arms over his chest defensively.

"What the fuck? Why the hell not?"

"You're too thin! Customers don't want that, Louis. They want you curvy and sexy and sweet, not some drugged up addict who looks like he hasn't slept for the past week," Simon tells him, and Louis has to admit, despite his lack of care for people's opinion, that one stings a bit.

"What do you want me to do, Simon? If I can't afford food I don't get any," he replies and his boss scoffs.

"You can't afford food but you can buy drugs?" He asks, taking Louis' arm and staring pointedly at the poorly covered mottled skin.

"I'm earning you money, aren't I? A lot of the customers here come here for me, they ask for me, you really want to lose me?" Louis challenges, meeting his eyes. Simon sighs.

"You know what I mean, Louis; it's bad for business. Take care of yourself, not just for this, but for you, yeah? It's a slippery slope is all I'm saying," Simon tells him lifting his hands defensively, "now go, the punters are waiting for you," he says and Louis holds his stare for a moment longer before nodding, turning and heading through the curtains.

He's met with cheers and wolf whistles, plastering a sly smirk onto his face, coming to stand in the line with all the other half naked guys, staring out blankly, all of the lustful stares lost on him; he doesn't notice any of them. The lights are blinding, too intense, but Louis' used to it. He's been doing this for two years now and things haven't changed at all.

People sometimes see others who live terrible lives and wonder how they even cope, but the thing is, you learn to deal with it; it becomes mundane; normal. Louis doesn't register anything when he hears his name being called, he just steps forward into the searing spotlight and waits as the bids go up and up. He doesn't hear all the catcalls and the jeers, he ignores the hands that reach out to touch his skin, he just stares forward.

Tonight it's a husband and wife that are taking him first, which isn't too unusual really, it happens less than normal, but it's not rare. The couple walk up onto the stage, looking excited. Louis gives them a forced smile, going to join them.

"Louis, we've seen you here a couple of times, this is our first time actually bidding, we're really glad it was you," the husband says and Louis nods, feigning interest.

"Hopefully I'll live up to expectations," Louis replies, smiling good-naturedly.

"I've only ever heard good things, hun, I'm sure you'll be perfect," his wife says, taking his hand and leading him into one of the back rooms.

-

It's been five hours since Louis was with the married couple, and he has to say he didn't mind it. They were both attentive and the fact they preferred focusing on getting him off together wasn't too bad either.

It was a damn side better than the customer he's with right now, that's for sure. The guy who'd bid on him looked promising; he wasn't too bad looking and seemed nice enough. But if there's one thing Louis' learnt about his time here is that looks are always deceiving. And that people who look normal can be kinky as fuck.

Louis' not one to be picky, but sometimes things are too much. Like now for instance.

"No, no way mate," Louis says, laughing and shaking his head.

"Look, I paid five hundred for this, you don't really have a choice," he replies, handing Louis the muzzle.

"Yeah, and there are certain things I just don't do, okay? I'm up for a little BDSM, but this isn't a BDSM club and if that's what you're looking for, you better go someplace else because we don't do that kind of thing," Louis tells him.

"I'll pay you an extra two hundred," the man says, taking out his wallet.

"I'm not allowed to accept money that's not-"

"Three, I don't care, I just want you to do this for me," he insists and Louis looks at the money, biting his lip before shaking his head.

"A grand, I'll pay you a fucking grand if you just put this on," he says and Louis swallows, thinking about what Simon had told him before he went on stage tonight, and how he's on the verge of being evicted from his flat. Fuck he needs this money.

"I just- I'm not allowed," Louis sighs, shrugging.

"Fine," the guys says, "guess I'll just fuck you like a whore," he says and Louis sighs again, nodding.

"Alright," he replies, heading over to the bed and bending over.

"You've got a fucking sinful ass, too bad you aren't a member of a club, you'd make a perfect sub for someone," he comments and Louis shrugs as the guys pulls his boxers down, running his hands over his cheeks, humming in approval.

"Not one for obeying orders, me," Louis tells him and the guys laughs.

"That so? Guess we'll see about that," he mumbles before pushing in. Louis groans, hardly having time to adjust before he's being fucked hard, his body jerking against the side of the bed.

"Shit that's-" Louis chokes, the air knocked out of him, "bit rough," he manages, hissing as the guy shoves in harshly again.

"Wanna be a slut and I'll fuck you like one," the guy tells him, "fuck you're tight for a whore," he growls, going even faster, his hands fisting in Louis' hair and tugging him up, his mouth at Louis' ear, "you like that?" he breathes, literally pounding him into the sheets. Louis' body jolts with the force of his thrusts, air leaving his lungs every time. He grips the sheets tight in his hands, gritting his teeth against the pain.

"Fuck," Louis gasps, pushing his face into the bed, clenching his eyes closed.

Louis knows he shouldn't be letting someone fuck him so hard, he won't be able to have sex again for at least a few days after this, but he has no power in this situation, he's not the one calling the shots right now.

He hates it when customers get this rough, because he doesn't enjoy it. Yeah, he's a prostitute, but that doesn't mean there aren't certain rules- albeit unwritten- about what you should and shouldn't do. You shouldn't suggest to do things that go against the rules of the establishment, and you shouldn't fuck someone so hard they won't be able to walk tomorrow- it's abuse.

"You close?" The guy pants, fucking him so fucking hard Louis' eyes water.

"Yep, don't stop," Louis forces himself to say, biting back a groan.

"Shit, I'm close, I'm going to-" the guy literally yanks out Louis' hair, biting down hard on his neck as he cums, continuing to fuck him as he does. Louis whines, the small protest leaving his lips before he can help it. "Fuck," he groans, pulling out, removing the condom and dropping it into the bin beside the bed.

Louis can barely move, his arse stings so bad.

"I- Oh my God," he croaks weakly, curling his legs into himself, trying to catch his breath, winded.

"That was great, thank you," the man says as he puts his suit back on. Louis finally manages to push himself up, shakily tugging his boxers back up, wincing with every movement.

"What the fuck, man?" Louis snaps, anger pulsing through him.

"Huh?" The guy asks, turning from where he's buttoning his shirt.

"What the fuck was that?"

"What was what?" He asks, laughing in confusion.

"You fucked me so hard I could barely breathe!" Louis seethes and the guy rolls his eyes.

"I like it rough, you wouldn't do what I asked and that was the compromise," he says, shrugging.

"That's not compromise that was-"

"Look, you're hardly in a position to complain, okay? What do you want me to say, I'm sorry I paid you to have sex with me and it was a little rough? You're lucky you're fit because you've got some nerve," he says, shaking his head.

"Fuck you," Louis spits, tugging on sweatpants. The guys scoffs, pulling his suit jacket on.

"No love, it's you that gets fucked for a living," he says before leaving the room, silence the only thing left in his wake. Louis shakes with rage, glaring at the door for a full minute before a guttural growl rips from his throat.

"Wanker!" He yells, grabbing his t-shirt and pulling it on over his head, next his rucksack, slinging that over his shoulders and then tugging on some converse.

He hates everything about this place. He fucking hates it. He barely ever comes and when he does he feels so disgusting he has to go home and shower under tepid water, scrubbing his skin raw.

He has a limp in his step as he makes his way through the club, pushing past the couples who have bought a boy to spend the night with, ignoring the pissed off looks he gets from some of them. He shoves past all the people who stare at him as he tries to leave the club full of disgusting men and women.

He'll quit. Next week, when he's finally managed to pay off all his bills, he'll quit and find another job. He has to, he can't stay any longer. He sees Seth still at the door before he leaves, who notices his limp, brows furrowing in concern.

"Louis, are you alright?" He asks, reaching out to offer any kind of help. Louis steps out of his way, opening the door.

"Yeah, just got fucked like a whore is all," he snaps, pushing past him to the cold night air. It's early morning now, around three am, and all Louis want to do is find his dealer, pick up a couple of needles, maybe some pills, knock himself out in his flat and not wake up for the rest of the week. Anything that comes after that can wait.

He's got his night's pay in his hand, and he knows exactly what he wants to spend it on. Louis' about to take a turning that will lead to where he knows he can score, but something catches his eyes.

A sign advertising fresh cups of tea.

He knows it's stupid, but as soon as he sees it, he knows that's just what he needs. It's written in chalk on a board outside a cafe, with a cute picture of a tea cup drawn next to it, and before he even realises, he's outside the shop. He smiles, going for the door, taking the handle and tugging. His smile falls.

Locked.

What did he even expect? It's fucking three in the morning. He laughs bitterly at his own stupidity. He should stick to fucking drugs, tea's not going to cut it.

"Um, hi?"

Louis yelps, turning and clutching at his heart, eyes wide. A tall guy with stupidly long hair and soft curls stands, watching him sheepishly. Louis swallows, eyeing him cautiously. He looks so different to anything Louis knows; he's dressed in tight black skinnies and gold boots, some weird floral shirt half un-buttoned exposing his chest and even weirder tattoos.

He's definitely gorgeous, like some kind of model for a high end brand Louis wouldn't be able to pronounce the name of. Louis suddenly feels incredibly inadequate in his sweats and converse. He shivers at the cold, crossing his arms over his chest, wishing he'd taken the time to grab his denim jacket.

"Alright?" Louis ventures, not wanting to sound too inviting, still eyeing Harry with suspicion.

"I just- Well- It's just you're stood outside my cafe and I uh, I need to go in," he says, jingling his keys a little, smiling. Louis is a little lost for words just for a moment, standing there like a fool. The boys face drops and he looks concerned. "Are you okay? You look freezing."

"Um, I- I just thought it would be open for some reason," Louis says, laughing at himself, shaking his head, "guess I should come back when it's not three in the morning, huh?" He jokes weakly, looking around, debating whether he should waste money on a taxi to avoid the cold.

"Oh, sorry!" The guys apologises for absolutely no reason. "We open around seven, usually, feel free to drop in then," he says kindly, stepping to the door and unlocking it. Louis nods, moving away.

"Sure, thanks," he says, walking over to the pavement.

Harry stares at the boy as he pushes the door open for a second longer before turning back. He wonders what would make the small lad think a cafe would be open at this kind of hour but he quickly shakes the thought off, heading further inside to start work on the baking.

Harry fucking loves his job. It wasn't easy getting the money together to buy the place but after 5 years of working every job under the sun he'd finally raised enough to put the deposit down on this place.

There'd been a ton of work to do, but Liam and Niall had helped him completely strip the whole of the inside before beginning to decorate. He'd come across multiple problems, like managing to get hold of a coffee machine that wasn't ridiculously expensive, or getting the plumbing sorted, which was a pain in Harry's arse.

But eventually, after months of hard work, too many tears and hundreds of tea breaks, the cafe was ready to be opened. Six months later and Harry's quaint little cafe is the most popular on the street, getting more customers that Costa, a line out of the door every morning when all the busy people in suits are grabbing their breakfast and a coffee before they commute to work. He's only twenty three but he feels like this is the job he wants to be doing for the rest of his life.

Half an hour later Harry's carrying his freshly baked blueberry muffins around to the counter, ready to put them on display when he spots that same boy, sat on the curb of the pavement in the pouring rain. It's literally tipping it down and the boy is just sat there.

Harry immediately puts his tray down and runs to the door, opening it and hurrying to the boy in the street, bending down and tugging him up with his hands under his arms, leading him into his cafe. It's warm inside and the guy is shivering so hard Harry's worried he might be really sick.

"Jesus, what were you doing?" Harry asks, guiding him to a wooden chair and sitting him down, standing back and watching in shock as he just sits there shivering, dripping all over the floor, soaked through. He doesn't say anything so he kneels down, carefully un-lacing the boys converse and tugging them off along with his socks. "Fuck, your feet are cold," Harry says, clutching one dainty foot between his hands.

The boy just stares down at him, like he's not sure why Harry is doing this.

"I'm s-sorry," he finally mumbles, lips blue from cold, still shaking like a leaf.

"I've got some clothes upstairs, I can put them in the dryer and warm them up for you while you shower if you like? I mean, they'll be a little big but-"

"What?" He asks, looking worried.

"Um, you don't have to? I just have an apartment above the cafe, I don't use it often so-"

"Why w-would y-you do that?"

Harry frowns in confusion, shrugging.

"Well, like, because I can't just leave you out there," he says, gesturing to the sheets of rain hitting the glass door.

"Why not?"

"Because- Because I- It wouldn't be right, like, you could have gotten really ill," Harry says, shrugging again. The smaller lad stays quiet then. "Let me help you, you're shivering like hell," he insists and when the boy doesn't move Harry sighs, stepping forward and hauling him up, wrapping arm around him and leading him upstairs.

He guides him to the bathroom, flicking on lights as he goes. He reaches into the shower and runs it nice and warm for him before stepping back.

"If you leave your wet clothes outside the door I'll put them in the dryer for you," Harry says, "but you can borrow some dry clothes from me, I'll grab them for you now."

Louis stands still for a moment, still shivering, but then nods, turning and tugging his shirt off, letting it slop onto the floor. He doesn't know why the hell this guy is helping him but he's not going to turn down a free shower, especially a steaming hot one with a proper shower head that works. He tugs down his soaking sweats and boxers before getting into the shower, closing the door behind him.

Harry's a little taken aback that the boy just stripped in front of him, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"Um, I'll go get those clothes for you," Harry manages before grabbing the wet clothes from the floor and hurrying out of the room.

Louis doesn't care at all, barely gives it any thought. So many people have seen him naked it's lost any meaning to him. He doesn't feel shy or ashamed, he knows his body is a wreck and is beyond the point of caring. The hot shower is blissful, the best thing he's felt in months; he just stands under the soothing water for a few minutes before reaching for the shampoo.

He takes his time soaping his hair up, enjoying the fancy smelling body wash that he makes sure to use on every single bit of his body, not knowing when the next time he'll be able to wash properly will be. He scrubs away all the disgusting fake tan and sticky come from his skin, feeling like all his worries are washing away down the drain. Louis knows that's not true but at least for the moment he can pretend. He even uses fucking conditioner in his hair, a small smile on his lips.

Eventually though Louis has to shut off the hot water. He knows he can't stay here forever. When he steps out he tugs a plush beige towel from where it hangs on the wall, wrapping himself in it and smiling. It's warm and so fucking gentle on his sensitive skin. Everything about the small bathroom is warm, the steam having heated the space and fogged over the pretty little mirror.

Louis carefully towel dries himself, tugging on the soft black Nike sweats Harry'd left out for him, rolling them over twice at the ends before slipping the t-shirt on too. The cotton is so comfy and thick, the quality a thousand times better than the shitty stuff Louis' buys at Primark. Louis hasn't felt this clean in months. He tugs the warm socks on over his feet, smiling to himself at the warmth when he suddenly remembers his wallet.

His wallet that was in the pocket of his sweats. Which were now in the tumble dryer. Louis swears out loud, rushing out of the bathroom and frantically searching until he finds the utility room, looking everywhere but not finding his wallet. Louis whines, tugging on his damp hair in frustration. Without that money he definitely won't be able to pay his rent. He'll be kicked out, will have to find one of those God forsaken shelters and-

"You okay?"

Louis yells in fright, spinning round, hand on his chest.

"Shit," Louis breathes out, seeing it's the guy with the curls and the ridiculous dimples again.

"I put your wallet in your rucksack, hope that's okay," he says, pointing to the black bag on the floor. Louis grabs it from the floor, unzipping it and taking out his wallet, opening it and sighing in relief when he sees the notes are all there, undamaged by the rain.

"Thank God," Louis whispers, closing his eyes for a second and breathing deeply as he waits for his heart to calm down. Louis wishes his life wasn't like this, he wishes he didn't have to constantly be living on the edge of homelessness, but he doesn't have any other options. This is his life.

"I um, made you some tea, it's downstairs," he says, snapping Louis from his thoughts.

"Thank you, um...?"

"Harry," he fills in, smiling widely and causing Louis' heart to flutter uncomfortably.

"Louis."

"You feeling better?" He asks as he heads down the steps, Louis following behind him.

"Much... Thank you, you didn't have to do any of this," Louis says as Harry pulls out a chair for him. Louis sits, wincing a little at the pressure on his sore behind, but there's a plush cushion tied to the chair that makes it slightly more bearable.

"S'okay, quite nice to have some company while I'm here on my own, y'know?" He says, throwing that lovely smile of his over his shoulder as he goes to grab a pot of tea from behind the counter. "Thought you could sample some of the new stuff I'm thinking of bringing in," he says, eyes hopeful. Louis nods, finding himself smiling.

"Yeah, sure, um, if you're sure I'm not bothering you-"

"Louis, I let you use my shower and borrow some clothes, I think I can stretch to some tea and baked goods," he says, giving him a kind smile. Louis manages a small one in return, feeling overwhelmed by the care being shown towards him.

"Thank you," Louis says quietly, shy all of a sudden.

Louis' not really a shy person, not with his job and all, he's never really been one to bite his tongue or feel ashamed of himself or actions, but now, around Harry, who is lovely and beautiful and everything Louis isn't, well.

He feels like he should be careful with what he says, like swearing and being rude would put Harry off somehow, he doesn't want Harry to know he's some cheap whore, he doesn't want him to know he'll do pretty much anything for his next high. He wants to feel like a normal person who can fancy someone and not feel like he has to be paid to do it.

Harry places a teapot in front of him along with a cup on a mismatched plate. The china is dainty with a floral print and a barely noticeable gold rim and Louis feels as if he's never touched anything so lovely in his life.

"Wow," Louis says as Harry pours him some tea.

"Milk?" Harry asks, a small smile on his full lips.

"Please."

"Sugar?" He adds, raising a brow. Louis shakes his head. "I knew there was a reason I liked you, everyone knows putting sugar in tea is a crime against humanity," he says and Louis snorts, nodding. To be fair, the only time Louis really has tea is when Louise lets him nick her cuppa when she's doing his makeup from time to time, but she always puts sugar in hers and it's never that great. Being unable to afford tea himself, having this now, in posh cups with a cute boy sat opposite him waiting for his approval, makes it taste incredible.

"Shit," Louis sighs, leaning back in his chair a little, closing his eyes as the liquid soothes his throat. "S'really nice," he tells him and he can hear Harry laugh softly as he gets up.

"Wait here," he instructs before ducking back behind the counter again.

When he returns he has a selection of wonderful-looking pastries and sweet things on a plate, that stupid grin still on his face.

"You made these?" Louis asks, eyeing all of the food with wide eyes. It's not like he doesn't eat, but he hasn't had anything remotely like this in... Longer that he can actually remember. He usually just about manages to get by on pot-noodles and cereal, but there's no real flavour there.

"Mhm, baking's kind of a thing for me," he says, lips tilted upwards slightly. Louis can't stop flicking his eyes over Harry's face, which is- Louis can't believe Harry is even talking to him. Apart from Zayn, who's wasted beauty is honestly one of the saddest things Louis' ever seen, Louis doesn't know people who look this good, or dress this good. He doesn't really know good people full stop. "Try this one first."

Harry cuts into a small tart that looks so pretty it's almost a shame to be eating it. Almost. It's pastry casing is perfect, filled with some posh-custard looking base with glazed strawberries on top. Now Louis honestly can't remember the last time he ate a fucking strawberry, with the price of them being so extortionate. Louis knows Harry isn't aware of how much Louis appreciates this, but he wishes he could somehow tell him.

When Louis bites into it he moans just a little bit. That's how fucking good it is. He closes his eyes and savours the taste on his tongue, the sweetness of sugar and fruit; things he never even thinks of anymore.

"You like?" Harry asks, his look hopeful. Louis nods enthusiastically, swallowing.

"So good, Harry, shit- I mean, like, God, that's amazing," Louis tells him and Harry scoffs, blushing slightly in a way that makes Louis' stomach twist.

"Well, I don't know about that, but thank you," Harry replies modestly, shrugging before moving onto the next piece of food. "You look like someone who enjoys a brownie," Harry says and Louis almost passes out because fucking chocolate.

"God, you don't even know," Louis tells him, taking a bite of the brownie. He hums in the back of his throat, smiling to himself as he swallows. "Jesus Christ, Harry, these are aces," Louis tells him, finishing the rest eagerly.

"Still hungry?" He asks, preparing to cut an almond croissant in half. Louis nods eagerly, both of them smiling.

-

It's five in the morning and Louis and Harry have shared two pots of tea and shared so many little cakes and pastries Louis feels like he's about to burst, but he can't remember the last time he was so happy.

He hangs around as Harry washes up, drying some things for him because he feels bad not helping at all. He watches as Harry sets out all the food in the display unit at the front of the cafe and checks all the machines and shelves, wiping down all the tables, ready to start the day.

By the time Louis' clothes are dry and he's changed back into his own ratty sweats and t-shirt, slipping his feet into his beaten up high-top converse, Louis feels a heaviness in his chest. He's had such a nice time here, enjoyed Harry's company so much, he doesn't want to leave, he knows what's waiting for him back at his flat, back in reality.

And that's what it really is, to be honest. For the past few hours Louis'd allowed himself to pretend; to pretend that this was his life and he wasn't a drug-addicted whore. His throat feels tight as he shoulders his rucksack, heading back down the stairs to tell Harry goodbye. He doesn't know why he's being like this, it's silly and childish but Louis wishes for once his life wasn't so hard, that he could have nice things like this. He wishes someone would care for him like Harry cared for him this once.

"You going?" Harry asks, leaning on the counter, hair now tied up in a messy bun that has Louis' heart beating out of pace.

"Yeah I uh, I left your clothes on top of the dryer," Louis tells him.

"It's pretty frosty out there, will you take a jumper?"

"Um-"

"Wait there, don't move!" Harry yells over his shoulder as he runs up the stairs, back down a moment later after Louis' barely had time to blink. He takes Louis' rucksack and hands him a green Packers hoodie. It's so soft between Louis' fingers and he knows he'll be freezing in the bitter morning weather but he can't take anything else from Harry.

"Harry, I-"

"Please?" Harry asks, eyes begging, "I can literally see the frost on the windows," he adds and Louis sighs, giving Harry a tiny smile before pulling the hoodie over his head. Harry smiles, reaching forward and turning up the sleeves for him carefully. Louis can hardly breathe, chest tight with emotion at having someone care for him like this.

"Thank you," Louis chokes out and Harry beams.

"Well, at least now you have a reason to come back, yeah?" Harry asks, giving him a hopeful look. Louis bites back his smile, nodding.

"Course," Louis says, shouldering his bag again and backing towards the door. He gives Harry a final small wave and steps outside, shivering a little at the biting cold. He starts making his way back down the street when someone calls his name.

"Louis!" Louis turns and sees Harry leaning out the door, cheeks flushed from the sudden cold. Louis laughs at his stupidity, shaking his head. "Can I have your phone number?" He asks, seeming slightly nervous. Louis is about to tell him yes, is about to tell him of fucking course.

Then he remembers he doesn't have a fucking phone.

"Mobile's broken at the moment, mate, sorry!" Louis tells him before forcing himself to turn back round and start walking again. He knows Harry is going to think he isn't interested, but maybe that's for the best.

He's no good for anyone anyway.

-

"Oh yeah," Louis mumbles, "just like that."

"Shit, you're fucking hot, so fucking tight," the guy behind him grunts, his hips slapping loudly against Louis' arse. Louis closes his eyes, trying to ignore the feeling. Ignore everything. But sometimes that's not possible.

Someone takes his chin then, lifting his head and placing their c*ck at his lips. He opens his mouth obediently, letting them fuck his throat, gagging but not complaining, being fucked from both sides like a complete whore. Louis doesn't care.

"Such a slut," the guy choking him on his d*ck growls, taking fistfuls of Louis' hair and tugging, causing Louis to let out a noise of pain. "Yeah? You like that?" He asks, pulling harder. Louis doesn't make any more noise, scared he'll continue pulling his hair. He doesn't really like that. "God, I wanna feel that hole."

The guy pulls his length from Louis' mouth, leaving him gasping for breath as the two men switch.

"Wait, wait," Louis breathes out, exhausted. "You need- You need a condom," Louis tells him, pointing to the table where they're kept in a jar.

"Fuck that, wanna feel you round me," he says, grabbing Louis' hips and tugging him closer. Louis struggles, because he's clean, he has to be for this job, but he doesn't know if this guy is, hell, he doesn't even know his name.

"No," Louis says, moving out of his grip, "no, stop, you can't-"

"We'll pay you extra, whatever-"

"No, I'm not allowed to, just fucking stop, stop," Louis warns him, going to get up before he's shoved back down by the guy behind him.

He feels his hole being breached and yells out but as he does his mouth is filled with c*ck, choking off his cries.

Louis thrashes around, pulling his mouth off, only to be slapped, hard. Louis hisses, tasting blood in his mouth.

"Don't be so fucking difficult!"

"Get the fuck off me!" Louis yells but has his mouth filled again, this time the guy's more rough, thrusting hard, making Louis gag violently, scared he might be sick.

"That's it, good boy," the guy behind him says, smoothing a hand over his arse before giving it a sharp slap. "Fuck, this ass is wasted in a shitty place like this," he grunts, pushing in harder. Louis whines, struggling again. The guy fucking his mouth just pulls his hair, holding him down on his c*ck. Louis chokes, trying to pull back but he's held down.

"Yeah, fuck, that's right," he groans and Louis is so out of breath he is gasping and coughing when the guy lets him up, spit dripping from his lips.

"Stop, fuck, stop," Louis tells them, trying to pull away again. The guy fucks him harder. He's still sore from last week and this isn't helping.

Louis hates his life.

He closes his eyes and thinks of something better. He thinks of tiny pastries and pretty china cups, hot showers, comfy sweatpants and a sweet green-eyed boy. He thinks of this while he's being roughly fucked, completely pathetic.

Louis hates his life.

"Shit, I think I'm gunna come," the guy with his c*ck in Louis' mouth says, moving his hips faster, causing Louis to splutter round his girth. "Shit, fuck," he swears, pulling out of his mouth, pumping his d*ck fast.

"Yeah, on his face."

"No, no, stop-"

"Fuck, fuck," the guy in front of him yells, coming all over Louis face. Louis closes his eyes, instantly turning his head away, just serving in getting it all in his hair. He's got no more hot running water, either, so it's not like he'll be able to wash that out.

"Oh, God, that's hot, I'm gunna come," the guy who's still fucking him says, being even more rough with him.

"Pull out," Louis insists, "for fuck's sake pull- oh shit, God, get the fuck off me," Louis spits, pulling away as the guy comes in him, the rest going all over the bed sheets.

"The fuck? Why'd you do that?" The guy says and Louis just storms over to his boxers and pulls them on, ignoring the ache between his legs. He shoves his legs into skinny jeans, wishing more than anything they were soft sweats. Louis tugs a t-shirt over his head, grabbing his bag before leaving the room, not bothering to say anything. He heads straight to Simon's room, ignoring all the odd looks he's getting.

He opens the door, seeing Simon's on the phone.

"I quit," Louis says, breathing hard, anger pulsing through him.

"Hold, on, I'll call you back," Simon says, hanging up, brow creased as he looks to Louis, "what?"

"I can't fucking take it!" Louis yells, hands tugging his hair, cringing in disgust when he feels come. "I- Last week, I got fucked so hard I couldn't even walk home and this week, some guy came on my face while the other guy refused to wear a condom and fucked me bareback. He came while he was still in me and I told him no, I told both of them fucking no!" Louis screams, feeling like he's going to explode.

"Louis, I-"

"I don't want anything more to do with this, I want out, I want my pay and then I want to leave and never fucking set foot in this shit hole ever again," Louis says, barely managing to get his words out.

"I'm sorry, Louis, I didn't mean for that to happen, I'll make sure those guys pay for that-"

"It's fucking rape. I said no, I changed my mind, I wanted to stop and I couldn't because I'm just a fucking whore who doesn't deserve any fucking respect! I told him no and he laughed at me!" Louis cries, throat raw from being fucked and from all his wild emotions.

Simon looks down to Louis' arm and sees it looks even more infected than last week.

"Louis, are you okay?" He asks and Louis swallows, looking down at his arm, which is completely disgusting at this point. Louis swallows, finally feeling his eyes filling with tears. He bites his lip, shaking his head.

"No," he whispers. He feels sick, truly sick. His stomach is churning and he's got come all over his body, dripping down his cheek, stuck in his hair, running down his legs. He wants to rip his skin off. His arm radiates pain and he can't even think with how terrible he feels, physically and emotionally. He't not been sleeping at all this week and his dealer ripped him off so he's on his final warning from the landlord, already going without food, heating and hot water.

"Louis, I think you should sit down," Simon says carefully and Louis starts taking huge gulps of air, his heart racing uncomfortably fast.

"I think I- I think I'm dying," Louis chokes, falling to his knees, unable to stand anymore. Simon rushes to his side, hands on either side of his face. Louis can't breathe. "I can't breathe, I can't, I can't, get Zayn, please, please, get Zayn, I need him," Louis begs, stomach heaving. Simon grabs him the bin just in time for him to be sick.

"Oh Louis," Simon breathes, pushing his sticky fringe back from his face. Louis is still choking, heaving over the bin, unable to take proper breaths with how much he's panicking. "Louis, Louis, try and calm down for me, I'm going to get Zayn and then I'm going to call an ambulance, I think your arms infected," he says, words coming out slowly and clear, so Louis can understand.

"A-Ambulance?" Louis stutters, turning to Simon with wide eyes as he stands, his body begging to shake.

"Fuck- Stay here," Simon says, hurrying from the room. Louis throws up two more times while he's gone, struggling to drag air down his throat and into his lungs, curled round the small waste bin.

"Fucking hell, Louis," is the first thing Zayn says when he gets into the room, dressed in just a pair of sweatpants. Simon had obviously interrupted him from something.

"Z?" Louis mumbles before hurling into the bin again, choking slightly when he can't manage to breathe.

"How did no one notice this? Look at his fucking arm!" Zayn yells to Simon as he dials an ambulance, face a picture of worry.

"Z?" Louis asks again, clutching tightly at the edges of the bin, trying to hold back his shakes.

"Lou?" Zayn says softly, crouching by him, stroking his fringe from his face, brushing cool hands over his sweaty skin.

"Sc-scared," Louis mumbles, words slurred. He feels drunk, like he can't think clearly. Zayn runs a soothing hand over his back, kissing his shoulder carefully.

"Shhh, Louis, it's gunna be okay, I'm not going anywhere," Zayn tells him and Louis swallows, trying to slow his breathing but nothings working. "Shhh, babe, you're working yourself into a state, shh, just breathe, just focus on breathing for me, Lou, that's it, good, doing good, Lou," he coaches him, constantly reassuring him.

"I- I don't feel well," Louis says, feeling shaky and weak, having thrown up most of the little food he'd eaten this week.

"I know, love, but it's going to be okay, I'm not going anywhere," Zayn says. Louis nods, slowing his breathing. He closes his eyes, leaning back on Zayn, exhausted. "Keep your eyes open for me, Lou, just for a while, then you can sleep-"

"He's passed out," Simon cuts him off, grabbing some water from his desk. "Here, see if you can make him drink this."

"How the fuck do I do that if he's passed out?"

"Just-"

"Simon Cowell?"

Simon looks up, sighing in relief when he sees three medics in the room.

"Yes, that's me, this is Louis, he needs to go to hospital, he just passed out," he says, helping Zayn haul Louis up, who's like a ragdoll in their arms; lifeless.

The female medics lay him onto a stretcher and begin moving him out of the room and towards the fire exit. Zayn follows, telling Simon he'll phone with any news.

"Are you family?" One of the medics asked and Zayn shakes his head.

"No, but I-"

"Only family in the ambulance, I'm afraid-"

"He doesn't have any family, I'm all he's got," Zayn tells her and she shakes her head, looking apologetic.

"I'm sorry, we're going to take good care of him though, you can follow us to the hospital and see him then."

Zayn doesn't both waiting, just hurries back inside to grab his car keys and a t-shirt before jumping in his car and breaking every speed limit he can to get down to the hospital.

-

"Yeah, he's okay," Zayn tells Simon as he's stood outside Louis' hospital room. "He's sleeping, guess he hasn't done much of that lately... Yeah, I'll tell him, okay, bye."

Zayn sighs heavily as he slips his phone back into his pocket, heading back into Louis' room and slumping down into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs beside his bed, looking over the sorry excuse for a boy.

He really is a mess. His arm is still a mix of mottled purples and sickly yellows, but they'd given him antibiotics to cure the infected wound, so at least it couldn't get any worse. They're going to keep him for observation for a couple of days, to make sure his vitals return to normal because he'd been seriously lacking in loads of vitamins, water and food in general. But Zayn knows this is just the tip of the iceberg. Louis might be okay this time but what about the next? What if he dies next time.

Zayn sighs, pushing his hands into his hair, trying to think of a way to help Louis, but really, what can he do? He was only slightly better off; he doesn't get into hardcore drugs, doesn't waste his money on that shit, and he's managed to find a place to stay that isn't half bad. Louis, well... He's got nothing. As soon as he's out of here he'll go back to his old ways.

Zayn's got Perrie, who understands that he needs this job and doesn't mind, she knows he doesn't feel the connection he does with his clients as he does with her, it's just business. He's almost managed to save enough money up for university now, ready to take his art major, so he's got something to aim for. Louis doesn't have anyone to love or to love him, he doesn't have an aim to keep him going.

All he's got his Zayn and drugs to sedate him into a restless sleep.

"What the fuck am I going to do with you, Louis?" Zayn asks, looking up, eyes filled with tears. "Tell me, because I haven't got a fucking clue."

But of course, Louis doesn't say anything.

-

"Make sure he drinks plenty of water and eats three balanced meals a day with snacks," the nurse says as she and Zayn wait for Louis to change into the clothes he'd bought for him.

"I don't live with him, but I'm gunna try and make sure he gets everything he needs," Zayn tells her, feeling guilt weigh down on his stomach because there's no way he can assure he's going to do that. Louis an adult, it doesn't matter what he does, if he's not there with Louis 24-7 when it's not like he can stop him from injecting random shit into his veins.

"Well what about his girlfriend? Can you ask her?"

"He told you he had a girlfriend?" Zayn asks, raising a brow. The girl blushes.

"Well, no, but I assumed-"

"He's lives on his own," Zayn says and she sighs, looking worried.

"Just try and keep an eye on him, I don't think he realises how close he was to dying that night," she says and Zayn feels his heart skip a beat, dead swirling in his gut.

"Z?" He hears Louis ask as he opens the door, now dressed in a pair of Zayn's basketball shorts and a jumper.

"Ready to go, beb?" He chips and Louis nods, tucking himself into Zayn's side, thanking the nurse and walking with him to the car.

As they're driving back to Louis' apartment Zayn feels a kind of thick tension between them. Louis woke this morning and Zayn had only really had a chance to fill him in on what happened, not properly discuss the implications. He wants to say something but doesn't know how to start, he knows Louis can be snappy when he feels the need to be defensive, so he doesn't want to say the wrong thing.

"What is it Zayn?" Louis finally asks, breaking the silence.

"What?" Zayn asks, not taking his eyes off the road.

"I know you want to say something, you're doing that thing where your fingers twitch, like you want a cig or something," he points out, nodding to Zayn's tapping fingers on the steering wheel. Zayn sighs.

"Louis... You do know how serious what happened was, right?"

"Yes?" He replies, frowning. Zayn wants to drop this already; he's barely even said anything and already he can tell Louis' on the defensive.

"Lou, you almost died... Your body went into shock, if you'd left it another day, if you hadn't of had a panic attack, you might have died in your sleep," Zayn tells him and Louis swallows, choosing to turn and look out of the window.

"Yeah, well," Louis mutters, "I didn't."

"No," Zayn agrees firmly, "you didn't, and I'm so fucking thankful you didn't, Louis because if you had I'd- Jesus, I don't want to think about it, Louis... I just- I can't watch you go through that again," Zayn finally says and Louis turns to him, glaring.

"You can't go through that? What about me? It's easy for you to sit there and ask for me to try and be safe and to not go near drugs, because I know that's what you're asking me, Zayn, but it's not that fucking simple. I come home to some shitty flat after doing my shitty job, for what? There's no one waiting for me, there's no TV to distract me. I've got fuck all, Zayn, I don't know why the fuck anyone decided I was worth saving-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Zayn snaps, slamming his hand on the wheel and making Louis jump. "You think I'd be able to just let you fucking die? Imagine if it had been me, there's no way in hell you would have let me die, so how the hell could you even fucking say that? Are you that selfish? You have me, Louis, I'm here for you, if you'll let me be, just don't push me away," he finishes, hands tight on the wheel, knuckles white.

"You're all I have, Zayn, I can't hang onto you forever," Louis says softly, staring down at his hands, "what happens with you go to do your art course, what, you expect me to call you up when I'm having withdrawl symptoms, begging you to come and comfort me? I'm not going to do that, Z, I'm not going to drag you down when you've got a future and I'm not going anywhere," Louis says and Zayn shakes his head, biting down on his lip to keep from crying.

"Why can't- Just stop with the drugs, Louis, please, that's all I want, nothing else, you can drink, smoke cigs, just no more needles, no more pills," Zayn begs, voice weak. Louis closes his eyes, leaning back on his chair.

"What difference does it really make, Zayn? You want me to live, but what for? So I can continue you hating my life and getting fucked by people I don't even know?"

"Get another job, stop taking drugs, for fuck's sake just don't fucking die, Louis, I can't see you die!" Zayn yells and Louis tips his head back.

"I'm not going to make promises I can't keep, Zayn, I'll only let you down."

"Let me help you, let me help you get a councilor for your addiction, I'll come and check on you and-"

"Zayn, I'm not a kid, I know what's good and what's bad for me, what's right and wrong, and I just choose the wrong things, I'm not going to change that," Louis says, shaking his head. They pull up outside Louis' shitty block of flats and he gets out of the car, leaning his head in before he closes the door. "Thank you, Z, for taking care of me, but any mistakes I make are my own lookout, not yours to worry about and drag you down."

Louis shuts the door then, not turning back as he heads into the block. He hears Zayn's car pull away as he walks up the stairs, feeling his body ache slightly from lack of use. He takes his key from his pocket, going to unlock the door, when he finds the key doesn't turn in the lock; it won't go in. Louis feels his blood run cold when he sees the note attached to the door.

A final notice for his eviction.

Louis looks at the date on the paper and realises he'd been in hospital for a fucking week and missed the payment dates for his rent.

"Shit," Louis swears, looking down at the black bin bags filled with his belongings. "Shit!" He yells, louder this time, kicking against the door in anger.

"Hey, hey, hey! Fuck off!"

Louis turns and sees his landlord hurrying down the stairs, coming over to push him away from the door.

"Nick, what the fuck is this?" Louis asks, pointing to the sign on the door. Nick sighs.

"Louis, you've been down on your rent payments for months, I can't keep letting you off-"

"I paid all of them, even when they were late, I paid them, you can't kick me out man, I've got no where else to go," Louis says, voice desperate.

"Look, mate, there's nothing I can do. You were over a week late on your payment and you haven't been paying for heating or electricity for months," he points out, looking impatient.

"I was in hospital, I would have paid if I'd been out, here," Louis says, routing through his pockets, "I've got enough money right here, I can-"

"Louis," Nick cuts him off and Louis flinches at the tone of pity in his voice, "I'm sorry, but you need to go. I need people who are reliable and, well, you're a wild card, mate," he says and Louis swallows, putting his wallet away.

"Well fuck you, then," Louis snaps, grabbing the bin bag with his stuff in and shoving past Nick. He's got no idea where the fuck he's going but seeing as how he's got some money he won't be spending on rent, Louis' got a pretty good idea of what he wants to blow it on.

-

"Simon, have you seen Louis at all? It's been three weeks and I haven't seen him," Zayn says as he stands in Simon's office. The man shakes his head sadly.

"Zayn I- I don't think we can save him now..."

"I went to his flat and his landlord told me he'd been evicted the day he got out of hospital and like, what the fuck does that mean? Where the hell would he be staying?"

"A shelter, maybe?" Simon suggests and Zayn shakes his head.

"He's been in one of those before, got beaten up and all of his stuff taken, I doubt he would have gone back."

"So he's just living on the streets?" Simon asks, exasperated. The thing is, he's known Louis for a long time, he wouldn't want him hurt or in danger, but he feels like this is out of his control. "Fuck, Zayn, maybe I should have just set him up, y'know, paid for him to get a proper apartment and let him pay it off slowly, I don't- this is so fucked up," he says, pushing his head into his hands.

"Simon, you know he wouldn't have accepted that, he barely even lets me lend him money when he needs it. I- I'm gunna check around all the shelters after work today, see if they've heard of him at all, I'll let you know if anything happens," he tells his boss and Simon nods, not looking up.

"If you find him, if he needs anything, bring him straight to me, I owe it to that boy to help him."

"I'm gunna find him, Simon, don't worry."

-

"Fuck, look at him, doesn't even know where he is."

"Check his pockets."

Louis blinks, swallowing thickly, wincing at how raw his throat is.

"Sttt-" Louis can't force any words out, tongue heavy in his mouth, "noo-"

"Bloody hell, what a fucking mess," the guy says, pulling Louis' wallet from his hand, opening it and checking the inside. There's a couple of notes but that's it. Louis needs that money though, he won't make it through the next week without it.

"Mate, look at him, there's only twenty quid in there, leave it," the other one says, shaking his head. "Maybe we should help the lad, look at the state he's in, can't be older than twenty five," he mumbles. The guy with his wallet sighs, chucking it back into Louis' lap where he's slumped against the grimy wall, legs pulled to his chest.

"Dunno, what can we do?"

"Get him a drink, water, he looks pale, sick..."

"He's off his face, a junkie," the other guy scoffs, turning to leave. The other guy takes his arm.

"Dan, com'on, we can't leave him here like this, let's just get him somewhere that he can have a drink of water, maybe get him to come round and find a shelter for the night," he begs and the other guy- Dan- sighs heavily.

"Jesus Christ, Matt, you and your fucking good Samaritan complex," he huffs, bending down to take one of Louis' arms. Matt looks relieved, bending to take the other arm, both of them hauling him up.

Louis immediately vomits over himself, groaning. Dan makes a noise of disgust, turning his face away.

"Poor sod," Matt mumbles, hooking one of Louis' arms round him and helping him out of the alley he'd been sleeping in.

"Let's just get him in here, alright, then we go," Dan grunts as he hoists Louis up as he trips, slumping forward.

"Doesn't look like there's many people in here, anyway, s'probably about to close," Matt comments, looking around as he pushes the door to the cafe open, helping the boy indoors and sitting him down in a chair.

People look at him in disgust, the smell of sick obviously not something they planned on having with their late evening tea.

"We're gunna get chucked out, this place is right posh," Dan mutters, sitting Louis up as he flops forward, trying to get him to stay still.

"Need t-tooo g-go," Louis slurs, trying to stand. Matt hurries to push him back down, brushing his hair back out of his face, eyes filled with worry.

"God, he's so bad... Maybe we should phone a hospital?"

"Excuse me?" An old woman asks, lips turned down in distaste. "This is a cafe, not a place for," she stops, looking over the sorry excuse for a boy in the chair, "drug addicts off the streets," she finishes, shaking her head.

"He needs help," Matt snaps, turning to Dan, "go get him some water and buy something, doesn't matter what."

"Bloody hell," Dan mutters, heading over to the counter.

"This is ridiculous," the old woman says, standing and going to the counter too. "Excuse me," she says, cutting off Dan's attempts at ordering some water and a muffin, "there's a boy covered in sick sat in your cafe and honestly, it's making me feel ill, would you ask him to leave, please?" She asks, pointing back to where the boy is falling off his chair, only to be caught and straightened by Matt.

"Louis," Harry whispers, feeling his heart clench instantly.

"You know him?" Dan asks, astounded.

"Yeah, well, like, no, I met him once but- God, what happened to him," Harry says, coming round the counter and hurrying over to Louis. "Louis? Can you hear me?" He asks, cupping the poor lad's cheeks, pushing his greasy hair back. Louis blinks his eyes, which are bleary and bloodshot, having a hard time focusing.

"Doon't-" Louis slurs, unable to form the rest of his sentence.

"Jesus Christ, um, alright," Harry says, straightening. "I'll uh, I'll take it from here," Harry says, "thank you, for helping him."

"Are you sure? I think he might need to go to see a doctor," Dan says, unsure.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll deal with it," Harry assures them, smiling despite the worry coursing through his veins.

"He was sleeping in that alleyway back there, s'probably drugged out of his mind, don't think he's eaten in a while," Matt says as they turn to leave. Harry nods, feeling his throat tighten hearing the words.

"I'll take care of him."

"Alright, thanks, mate," Dan says, ushering both himself and Matt out of the cafe.

"Aren't you going to remove him? Look at the state he's in, disgusting," the elderly lady from before tuts.

"No, sorry, he's a friend," Harry says apologetically, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to close up half an hour early tonight," Harry tells her and the old woman tuts, shaking her head.

"Ridiculous," she mutters, taking her coat and her bag before leaving the cafe. Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair. He hears a thud and turns to see Louis' fallen from his chair, a pathetic heap on the floor. Harry swears under his breath and hurries to flip the closed sign on the door before rushing over to the boy.

He gathers him up in his arms and stands, huffing out at the strain. Louis' not heavy, underweight if anything, but carrying him up the stairs isn't easy by any means. He carries him to the bedroom and places him down on the bed. It's Harry's Packers hoodie that he's got on and he feels his heart clench knowing he let Louis go when he was so vulnerable.

To be honest he never thought he'd even see the boy again, he'd thought about him a couple of times, remembering how badly he's wanted to ask him out, but he'd dismissed it as a one off; sometimes you just had to know when to let things go. Seeing Louis now, in such a state, Harry knows he has to try harder. He's a strong believer in fate and this was fate if he'd ever seen it.

"Louis," Harry says softly, sitting the boy up, brushing his hair out of his face, cupping his cheeks to stop his head from falling forwards. He knows he's out of his depth here, he's not a doctor, but he has to at least try. "Louis, I need you to take this jumper off," Harry tells him, feeling how sweaty and warm the boy's skin was.

"S'gunna cosst ya," Louis slurs, lifting his hand, a small smile on his face. Harry feels his heart skip, dread coiling in his stomach. "S'not like I'm annythingg special, so I'll do- I'll do it ff-for you cheap," he forces out, wincing slightly.

"No, God, just-" Harry has no idea what to do, heart racing, "I'm trying to help you, Louis, I'm not going to hurt you, I promise," Harry tells him, hands fluttering round him uselessly.

"Ss'what they all say," Louis mumbles, closing his eyes, slumping back against the headboard.

"Louis, Louis, hey, com'on, wake up," Harry says, cupping his face again, relief flooding through him when Louis opens his eyes. "Stay awake for me, okay? Gunna help you, just let me," Harry begs and finally, Louis nods.

He lets Harry tug the sick-covered jumper over his head, chucking it into the washing machine before coming back and helping Louis into his bed, pulling the covers over him.

"S'nice," Louis mumbles, curling up, eyes closing.

"Yeah? Good, m'gunna go and make you some food and get you some water, I'll be back soon," he says, brushing Louis' fringe from his eyes carefully before standing.

He doesn't know why he feels the need to protect this boy, but for some reason, he doesn't care, doesn't question it. His heart races the whole time he spends heating some minestrone soup for Louis, torn between wanting to make him something and wanting to go and check he's still okay. He grabs a bottle of water and takes it up with the soup, relieved to see Louis' just sleeping when he gets back up.

"Louis?" Harry says softly as he places the soup down on the bedside table, unscrewing the water for him. Louis stirs slightly, frowning a little in his sleep. "Louis, can you sit up for me?" Harry asks and Louis moans quietly, curling into himself more.

"Hurts," he mumbles and Harry's heart clenches in his chest.

"I know, love, but you gotta have some water, it'll make you feel better, I promise," he says and Louis stays still for a moment before pushing himself up, groaning. "Thank you," Harry breathes, holding the water out to him.

Louis takes the bottle but his hands are shaking so much he can hardly hold it to his lips without spilling it. Harry holds it for him and Louis drinks the water slowly, closing his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose.

"Mm-" Louis whines, pulling his head away, water spilling over his shirt, "no more," he manages, shaking his head. Harry nods, putting the water back onto the bedside table and taking the soup.

"Can you eat some soup, Louis? Please?"

"M'not hungry," Louis protests weakly and Harry comes to sit beside him on the bed, eyes filled with worry.

"I know, love, but it will help," Harry tells him and Louis nods slightly, sitting up some more.

"You do it," Louis says, rubbing at his eyes, wincing.

"Don't do that, it'll make your eyes sore," Harry says, tugging his hands away. "Here," Harry says, taking a spoonful of soup and blowing on it before offering it to Louis. Louis eyes it skeptically but opens his mouth, swallowing. "Okay?" Harry asks, pausing before taking another spoonful. Louis waits for a moment, worried he might be sick, but when he isn't he nods, opening his mouth again.

It takes a long time for Louis to manage the small bowl of soup, but eventually, he does, drinking some more water too.

"Tired," Louis mumbles and Harry nods, placing the bowl aside, helping Louis to lie back down, pulling the covers up around him.

"I'll come back in the morning, Louis, if you need anything, there's a phone in the kitchen with my number taped underneath it," Harry says, hoping Louis is actually conscious enough to understand.

"Thank you," is all Louis says, curling into himself again. Harry stays for a minute longer before standing, taking the empty bowl and leaving the water for him.

He makes sure to lock the door to the cafe and heads back to his apartment, worrying that maybe he'd made the wrong choice; maybe he should have stayed with Louis. He thought it would be okay to leave him if he'd just been sleeping, but what if he got worse through the night, what if he was really sick? Harry pushes that to the back of his mind, knowing he'd left Louis in a stable state and had given him everything he needed.

He'd come back in the morning and hopefully Louis would be feeling better.

-

Louis wasn't better in the morning. In fact, he felt worse.

He woke to light streaming through the windows, his eyes sore and stinging as he opened them. The next thing he felt was an awful pounding in his head, a migraine worse than he'd ever had before. His whole body aches, hurts more than anything.

Louis moans loudly, curling in on himself, shivering harshly. Suddenly overcome with the need to be sick, Louis staggers out of the bed, tripping as he goes in search of the bathroom. Everything spins around him as he falls to the floor in front of the toilet, vomiting so violently he's forced to cough out bile, everything else in his stomach gone.

"Harry-" is all Louis can get out before wretching again, "Harr-ughhnn-"

He's scared now, unable to stop himself being sick, his body shuddering, everything aching and protesting as he dry heaves. He lays his face down on the side of the toilet bowl, sobbing brokenly.

"Harry!" He cries, "Har-" he's cut off by heaving again, caught between being sick and crying. Louis doesn't even know what time it is, Harry might be hours before he gets back. He forces himself to stand, leaning heavily on the walls as he stumbles to the kitchen, grabbing the phone off the wall and clutching it in his shaking hands.

He can barely see the numbers taped to the wall through his tears but finally dials the number, holding it to his ear and praying Harry picks up. He does after three rings.

"Lou-"

"Harry," Louis cuts him off, sinking to the floor, bringing his legs to his chest, "please-" he stops when his body tries to force more sick out, groaning as it goes over his t-shirt and lap, "Harry, don't feel well," Louis gurgles into the phone, hands shaking.

"Oh God, okay, I'm coming right now, Louis, wait-" He cuts off and Louis can hear him shuffling around, "I'm just leaving, I'll be five minutes, can you wait that long?" Harry asks him, sounding out of breath.

"Hurts," is all Louis can moan, curling up even smaller when his stomach twists painfully.

"What hurts, Louis?"

"Everything, everything," Louis sobs, laying down, phone pressed to his ear. "I want my Mummy," Louis whispers brokenly, closing his eyes tightly.

He knows he's finally lost it. This is his lowest. He thought maybe he couldn't get any lower, but he'd finally hit the bottom. At twenty four years old, he's forced to beg for his mother, curled up on the floor of a strangers home, so lost he can hardly remember his own name.

"Louis, I'm at the cafe, I'm going to hang up just hold on, okay?" Harry begs him, hanging up the phone. Louis faintly hears the sound of the door downstairs being unlocked and Harry's feet as he runs up the stairs. He knows he must look like a complete wreck when Harry gets into the room and falls to his knees beside him.

Louis drops the phone, reaching out. Harry takes his hand, clumsily stroking his cheek, out of breath from running so fast.

"M'sorry," Louis chokes, unable to open his eyes, "m'so sorry."

"Shh, shh, it's okay now, I'm here, I'm going to help you, shhh," Harry whispers, gathering Louis into his arms and holding him to his chest. Louis cries into his t-shirt, clutching tightly to the material as the pain becomes unbearable.

"H-Harry, I need-"

"What, Louis? Tell me, please."

"You have to- Just one, just one pill," Louis begs, swallowing thickly.

"You need a painkiller?" Harry asks, moving to get up. Louis grips him harder, shaking his head.

"No, Harry, I-" Louis groans, bending forward in pain. "From my dealer, need-"

"Drugs?" Harry whispers and Louis nods desperately, moaning in pain.

"Please, Harry, please-"

"You're going through withdrawal?" Harry asks, feeling stupid for not having realised. Louis lets go of him then, moving away, curling up in the corner of the room, sobbing into his knees. "Louis-"

"I can't-" he struggles to speak, caught between needing to be sick and choking on breaths, "m'sorry, I'm not- I'm so fucking pathetic," he pushes out, voice strained with anger. "I'm such a fucking disappointment!" He screams, tugging on his hair, "a fucking drug addicted fucking whore!"

Harry's too frightened to move. Never in his whole life has he ever had to deal with anything like this. He grew up in a quaint little town and lived his whole life relatively sheltered. He knows that not far from here life can be pretty rough for some people, but this is the nice area, this isn't where people like Louis live. He feels terrible for saying it, but it's simply a fact.

That didn't mean Harry wasn't going to do everything he could to help put this broken boy back together. He's never really had a reason to fight for someone; he's lived his life very comfortably, his family were always loving and his friends always kind. Louis may not fit in with all of that but he doesn't care. Harry's going to fight for Louis with everything he has.

"No," Harry says gently, moving closer to Louis, "I know it hurts, Louis, I know," he coos softly, carefully prying his hands away from his face, brushing the tears away from his pale cheeks, "but you're safe now, you're not a disappointment to me," he tells him, pulling him close again.

"Why," Louis rasps into his neck, clinging to him, "why would you help me?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because I'm no one, I'm a fucking lowlife, no one fucking cares," Louis says, voice laced with anger.

"Because before I knew anything about you, Louis, before any of this, when I first met you, I thought you were lovely, I really did. You were sweet and funny and the reason I helped you that day was because I wanted you to like me, I wanted to take you on a date and treat you properly, make you happy," Harry says gently and Louis just cries harder.

"But what about now? Now you- you know I'm just some fucking- used up druggie, why the fuck would you help me?"

"I know that day I met you in the cafe was the real you, Louis, who you are now doesn't change that."

Louis sobs slow to hiccups, Harry gently carding his fingers through his hair, whispering to him gently as he calms.

"Hurts," Louis mumbles, utterly exhausted.

"I know, Louis, but I'm going to be here with you every step, you're not going to do this alone."

"Thank you, Harry," Louis whispers, swallowing back the emotions that threaten to choke him, "thank you."

Louis feels Harry's lips at his hair right before he falls asleep, fingers clutching Harry with everything he has.

-

The next time Louis wakes he still has an awful headache and his body still aches, but he doesn't feel sick. Harry gets him to take some painkillers and drink some water before he falls asleep again, promising to be there when he wakes up.

-

The next time Louis wakes he's feeling okay. Not good, but no where near where he'd been before. He doesn't know how long he's been asleep for, but it's light outside again. He sits up, rubbing at his eyes, yawning a little. He looks around and finds his heart skipping when he sees Harry attempting to curl up in the armchair beside his bed, not quite managing with his too-long limbs, face softened by sleep.

Louis doesn't understand why Harry's helping him, they'd only met once before he was dragged into his cafe, barely conscious, but he knows he's never been more thankful for anyone in his whole life. His heart races just thinking about the tender way Harry had spoken to him, running his fingers through Louis' hair as he drifted to sleep even though he smelt like sick and hadn't washed his hair in days.

He can't help but think he might be a little bit in love.

And you can't really blame him. The only person he can remember ever showing him this much care was Zayn, who was practically a brother to him. Louis had never been treated like he was special, never been cared for by anyone. Louis' poor heart couldn't help but race when Harry touched him so carefully. He didn't stand a chance.

Thinking about Zayn caused an uncomfortable pang of guilt twist in his chest; he'd not contacted him in weeks, maybe a month, and he knows he must be beside himself with worry. Louis knows if he'd been out on the streets for another week he'd have been dead and Zayn would never have forgiven himself if that had happened. He knows he owes it to him to call him.

He slips out of bed as quietly as he can, knowing Harry must be exhausted from constantly having to wake up every time Louis had to be sick or couldn't sleep through the pain, so he tries not to wake him as he makes his way to the kitchen.

Louis doesn't have a phone, but Zayn had made sure Louis memorised his number, just for emergencies. He dials the number, praying that he's not too busy to pick up.

"Hello?" Zayn's voice comes through the receiver sounding tired and a little raspy.

"Z?" Louis forces out, throat tight.

"Louis?" Zayn says hurriedly, tone changing to worried immediately. "Louis, is that you? Where are you, Lou, fuck I- God, what the fuck happened to you? I thought you'd just disappeared from the face of the fucking Earth, fuck, where the fuck are you? I've been searching every shelter each day and nothing, you got evicted the day I drove you back from the hospital, Louis, where the fuck have you been staying? You know you could have stayed with me, Jesus, I wish you wouldn't be so fucking proud all the time and just fucking admit when you need help, for God's sake, Louis, I was worried sick and I-" He cuts off, realising he's rambling.

"I'm sorry," is all Louis can say, guilt weighing down on him heavily knowing how much strain he'd caused to his best mate.

"Just tell me where you are, I need to know you're safe," Zayn breathes out, sounding tired again.

"I'm-" He pauses, looking around, sighing, "I relapsed, Zayn, I just- I didn't know what to do, I didn't want to cause you any more problems than you already had just because I'd fucked my life up... Some guys, they found me in an alley, completely fucked, they tried to take my wallet but I guess they felt bad stealing from someone who was barely even conscious. They dragged me into this cafe and um, like, the guy who owns it, he's letting me stay here for a while," Louis explains, knowing it must sound ridiculous.

"He's- Louis, do you even know him?"

"I've met him once before, he helped me when I didn't have a way of getting home and like, I don't know why, but he's helping me now... Fuck, Z, I was- worse than before, terrible, but he stayed, he helped me and I have no idea why but he did, I trust him Z, I'm safe, don't worry," Louis tells him and he can practically hear Zayn debating whether or not to argue with him.

"Fine... Can I come and see you at least, after I finish my shift today. Simon's been going crazy worried about you, wants to just give you a load of money to set you up because he feels so bad," he says and Louis sighs, running a hand over his face.

"I don't know if I can just invite you round here, Z, and I can't even stand up for longer than a few minutes without feeling exhausted, so I can't meet you... Maybe in a week-"

"Louis, you've been gone for over a month and you expect me to wait a whole week to see you? I thought you were fucking dead, Louis, do you even understand-"

"I'm sorry!" Louis exclaims before lowering his voice, turning his back to the doorway so his voice won't carry to the other room, "what the fuck do you want me to do, Zayn? You think it wasn't twice as hard to actually have to live with being almost dead for a month? I know I made you worry and I'm sorry I'm such a fuck up, but I'm trying to get better, okay?"

"Bloody hell, Louis, you'll be the death of me," Zayn sighs, "a week?" He asks, "I can come and see you in a week?"

"I'll call you before then, let you know how I'm feeling."

"Okay... Please be safe, Louis, don't do anything stupid... I love you, yeah?"

"Love you too, Z," he says softly, smiling.

"Alright, leave before I start crying," he mumbles and Louis laughs a little before hanging up, breathing out heavily before turning around, nearly jumping out of his skin when he sees Harry.

"Fuck!"

"Sorry, sorry, I- You were on the phone?" He asks and Louis nods, waiting for his heart to return to normal pace.

"Yeah, my best mate, Zayn, he's been sick worrying about me, I wanted to call him to make sure he knew I was safe."

"Oh, okay, I was just wondering if you wanted something to eat, I mean, you haven't eaten in days-"

"Days?" Louis asks, confused. Harry nods.

"You've been here three days," he confirms. Louis sighs.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Louis mumbles, shaking his head.

"No, it's okay, I re-opened the cafe after the first day, you've been sleeping mostly, on and off," Harry says and Louis runs a hand through his hair, grimacing at the horrible feel.

"Um, yeah, food would be really great," Louis says eventually, making Harry smile.

"Great, I'll go and fetch you something from the kitchen, okay?"

"Aren't you busy? Like, with the cafe?"

"Nope, not open on Sundays," he says, smiling with those lovely dimples that make Louis' resolve crumble.

"Oh, um, okay... Can I come with you?" He asks and Harry looks a little shocked, "I mean, like, I haven't really moved around in days, my legs ache a little," he explains.

"Why don't you shower, change out of those clothes, they're um, kind of gross," Harry says and Louis flushes, knowing he must look revolting and smell even worse.

"Right, yeah, probably a good idea," he says, laughing nervously.

"I'll get you some clean clothes to borrow," he says and Louis nods, heading into the bathroom. "Guess you know how the shower works now," Harry says, giving him a small smile. Louis smiles back this time, nodding.

"Thanks," Louis says as Harry leaves to get him some clothes. Louis strips and gets into the shower, leaving the bathroom door open so Harry can get in to put the clothes on the counter.

Louis sighs when the hot water hits his skin, letting his head fall forward, muscles slowly unwinding under the spray. He makes sure to clean his hair thoroughly and washes himself with Harry's sweet smelling shower gel twice over, making sure to rid himself of the smell of sick.

It's his hunger that forces him to turn the water off though, drying off quickly and changing into the basketball shorts, t-shirt and hoodie Harry had left him, tugging on some black socks too. He spots the toothbrush in a plastic wrapper on the side of the sink and smiles, heart warming at the thought that Harry had thought to leave that for him.

It feels nice to rid his mouth of the taste of sick finally as he brushes his teeth for a full five minutes, rinsing his mouth a good few times before finally going to find Harry.

Harry's already in the kitchen when Louis heads downstairs. It's getting dark outside but the lights of the cafe give the place a warm and cosy feeling. It smells amazing, too. Louis doesn't know what Harry's making but he's so fucking hungry he'd pretty much eat anything.

"Wow," Harry says, making him jump slightly, turning to see Harry leaning against the counter with two bowls in his hands, smiling, "you clean up nice, Louis," he says and Louis rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, well I guess anything is an improvement on sick," he says and Harry laughs, coming forward to place two bowls of pasta with tomato sauce on the table.

"Had to find something quick to make, sorry it's not exactly michelin star but, y'know," he explains, shrugging.

"Looks great, thank you."

"So, um, I thought we could talk, like, about what's happened, if that's, like, okay?" Harry asks as they sit down. Louis shrugs.

"Yeah, I guess," he says, taking a mouthful, humming in appreciation, "this is good."

"Thanks," Harry says before remembering what he wanted to ask, "so um, like... Do you live anywhere?"

Louis coughs, choking on his mouthful, reaching for a glass of water. Harry hurries to help him, apologising quickly.

"No, no, um, it's okay," Louis says, taking another final mouthful of water before speaking, "I was evicted from my flat about a month ago, I'd just got back from hospital and I missed the deadline for my rent."

"Didn't you have like, anywhere else you could go?" Harry asks, "a friend? A shelter?"

Louis pulls a face.

"Shelters are worse than the streets because you're in there with a bunch of people who are just as desperate as you and-" Louis shakes his head, "when people have no other options they can do some really shady things... Sometimes it's better to just avoid them."

"And friends?"

"I've got one really good friend, Zayn, I've known him a long time but I- I couldn't ask him to do that for me... He's trying to save up to do a college degree and he doesn't need me to drag him down," Louis says, picking at his pasta.

"Hey, if you don't want to talk it's okay," Harry says gently. Louis shrugs.

"S'okay, just- Haven't had the best life, to be honest," Louis says, and it's odd actually, because he's never really spoken to anyone about this, not even Zayn.

"Um, like, what about family?" Harry asks carefully and Louis feels his stomach twist.

"I don't know," he admits, not meeting Harry's eyes.

"You don't know?"

"Like, I left home at seventeen, I haven't seen them in years, doubt they'd want to see me, if I'm honest."

"Why?"

"Because I- I left them," Louis says, giving up on his food, sitting back in his chair. He looks out of the window, biting down on his lip before speaking again, "things were never easy at home. My Dad died when I was nine and my Mum was pregnant at the time. We weren't exactly well off when my Dad died but the life insurance managed to get us through for a couple of years, but with five kids it's not easy, y'know? Mum was already working three jobs and was constantly exhausted. I never did any work because I was so busy helping her with the girls.

I didn't care about school, I took a job doing a paper round every day before I even went to school so I was completely drained by the time the day ended, I never even thought about doing fucking homework. Soon school got fed up with my lack of commitment and kicked me out before I got any qualifications when I was sixteen and I ended up taking another job at bloody Toys R Us. What kind of a life was that for a sixteen-year-old?"

"So you left?"

"You make it sound so simple, but I'd been thinking about it for a long time. Mum was so stressed and tired all the time and the girls always just wanted things we couldn't give them. It was like I never got a chance at a childhood, I had to take on the role of a father and I wasn't ready for that... So the day before my seventeenth birthday I packed a bag, took some money and left. I put any money I didn't need into an envelope and left it for my Mum, it was all the savings I had... I guess I thought it would make me feel less guilty but sometimes I wish I'd taken it, because the life I had here was so much more shit than the life I used to have," Louis says, running a hand over his face tiredly.

"What happened when you got here?"

"I didn't immediately come here, I moved around a lot, stayed in a load of different shelters and flats. I ended up here when I was around twenty and I've been here for four years now, moving to different flats but mostly in the same place... This is where I found the job I've had for almost four years- well, I don't work there anymore, I quit a month ago, right before I went into hospital," Louis explains and Harry swallows, looking nervous before he speaks.

"And the job was...?"

"I let people fuck me for money," he says, finally giving a straightforward answer, "but it- along with the drugs, I- I had a breakdown, some guys forced me to do something I wasn't comfortable with and I cracked. I told Simon I wasn't going to come back after that but my arm was all infected from using needles and I was having some kind of panic attack so I ended up in hospital... After I got out and found that I didn't even have a fucking home anymore I got even more out of control. That's how I ended up here, I guess."

Harry's quiet for a moment, obviously trying to process it all. Louis kind of nervous; he knows Harry already knew he wasn't a good person, but now it's all out there, now he knows about his family, which he's never told anyone before, he's worried Harry will change his mind, that he'll decide he doesn't want to be around scum like him.

"I'm so sorry, Louis," is what he eventually says, looking up at him, green eyes meeting his. Louis feels his breath catch slightly and he can't find any words to say, so Harry continues, "I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that. I- I had such a sheltered upbringing, y'know? Just a normal life with a perfect family and I never- I never thought about how lucky I was to have all of that, how much I take it for granted."

"It's not your fault I have a shitty life, Harry," Louis says, sighing, "it's no one's fault, it could just of easily been you sitting in my position, I guess, but luck had it that I was dealt some crappy hands in life," he finishes, shrugging.

Silence hangs between them for a moment before Harry finally speaks up.

"Can I take you on a date?"

Louis swears his heart stops.

"A- A date? Like, with me?"

"Yeah, with you," Harry says, smiling at how adorable Louis is when he's flustered. He wants to know what Louis looks like with all emotions.

"But I'm- Harry, you've seen me be sick on myself, I used to be a prostitute, I-"

"I don't care," is all Harry says, "I like you and like, I've never found anyone I've felt this way with, like, that I actually want to spend time with," he explains, a small smile on his face, cheeks rosy. Louis can't hold back his own blush.

"I'd really like that, Harry," he says, a tiny grin tugging at the edges of his lips.

Harry finds it all very endearing.

-

four months later...

It didn't take Harry and Louis very long to fall in love. A month after their first date Louis had moved in with Harry, which didn't take long, seeing as how he didn't have any belongings.

It was kind of awkward at first; Louis didn't like Harry buying him clothes and food and basically letting Louis live off him, but Harry always brushed him off, telling him he didn't mind even slightly.

And there were nights where Louis couldn't sleep because his withdrawal was so bad and his whole body ached and he couldn't stop crying because it was so painful, begging Harry to let him have something to take the edge off, but slowly, they got through it. Three months with no drugs and Louis was almost back to full health; he doubts he's ever been this healthy in his life.

Harry loves having Louis at work, letting him work the counter while he bakes and prepares food in the back. Everyone finds him positively charming and Louis thrives off the attention, cracking jokes and having all the female customers lust after him, even some of the older ladies. Even some of the guys. But Harry doesn't mind, he knows Louis only has eyes for him.

After Louis'd assured Zayn that he was okay and wasn't dead, he introduced Harry to him, despite how nervous his boyfriend had been. Zayn might have been a bit protective at first, but one night when Liam and Niall had invited Harry and Louis round for curry, Louis' invited Zayn round too and somehow, they all just clicked. The five of them were kind of a thing now.

Zayn had managed to secure a place at a local uni and had finally quit his job. Louis loved sitting and listening to him ramble on about all the new projects he was thinking about starting, about all the things he was going to be able to go on and do.

Louis himself had actually just taken a job working in the local library and although the work was long and the pay wasn't much, it was a start. He was going to save up to go to uni and get himself a degree in English so he could become a teacher, something he'd always wanted to do. Small steps, that's the way he looked at it. Harry had been so proud of him and for the first time in his life, Louis was proud of himself.

But most importantly, Louis had found someone he loved, with his whole heart, and that loved him back. Sometimes it made Louis so happy he felt like crying, just sleeping in bed next to Harry, wrapped up in his warm embrace feeling cared for and special and loved, Louis could never have even imagined this happening to him.

It took Louis quite a long time to warm up to the idea of having a sex life again, he'd thought he'd never want to be intimate with someone ever after his experiences but Harry makes him want that. Yeah, it was slow and took a lot of experimentation for them to find out what Louis was okay with and what he wasn't but at least they could share that, at least Louis had someone who was willing to do that with him.

"Fuck, Louis, you're so fucking gorgeous," Harry whispers into his skin as he kisses up his neck. Louis closes his eyes, smiling, fingers tangling in Harry's curls. His whole body feels warm when Harry tells him things like that because no one has ever told him those things before, no one has ever made him feel beautiful.

"I love you," Louis replies, gasping slightly when Harry licks over his nipple.

"I love you, too," Harry tells him, placing opened-mouth kisses all along his collarbone, licking up his neck and placing a tiny kiss just below his ear, making Louis shiver. "Love every single bit of you, can't believe you're mine," he says and Louis swallows back his emotion, letting Harry kiss him slow and sensually, moaning as Harry's tongue licks into his mouth.

"Harry, please," Louis whispers, tugging on his curls.

"Please, what, babe?" He asks teasingly. Louis tugs his hair harder.

"More," Louis tells him and Harry smirks, Louis' heart skipping in response.

"More?" He hums into Louis skin, kissing back down his neck and along his chest, Louis arching up into his mouth when he sucks on a nipple. He keeps moving down, pressing a playful kiss to Louis' tummy, which Louis knows he loves to do because he used to be so thin. Harry adores the way Louis' filled out, loves his soft skin and smooth curves, especially his tummy. Louis just smiles down at his boyfriend, carding his fingers through his long hair tenderly.

Harry lies down flat on his stomach, encouraging Louis to part his thighs, kissing the soft skin there carefully.

"God, Harry," Louis breathes, letting his head fall back, a small sigh leaving his lips.

"This the kind of more you were after?" Harry asks, kissing up further, sucking a bruise. Louis moans, nodding.

"Yes, you shit," he laughs out breathily and Harry smiles into Louis' skin, kissing up higher before finally licking over his entrance. "Fuck," Louis hisses, fingers going to grip the sheets below him.

Harry places small licks to his rim, just using the tip of his tongue, Louis struggling to regulate his breaths, before he switches to long licks, pushing his cheeks apart and humming as he eats Louis out earnestly. Louis' fingers clench in the sheets, tugging at them, head thrown back. Harry pulls back, smiling smugly because he knows how much Louis loves this.

"Still want more?" He asks and Louis goes to kick at him but Harry catches his foot, placing a kiss to his ankle. Louis swears he never had a chance at resisting Harry.

When Harry reaches for the lube to the side of their bed Louis moves a hand to his length, stroking himself as Harry slicks his fingers and brings them down to Louis' hole. When he pushes the first in Louis sucks in a breath at the cold liquid but it doesn't last long, Harry carefully pushing his finger in and out, Louis closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling, still stroking himself.

"S'good, you can do another," Louis tells him and Harry does as he's told, adding another finger. Louis gasps when Harry curls his fingers, brushing over his prostate. "Fuck, yeah, like that, Haz," Louis tells him, pushing his hips down to meet Harry's fingers. Louis always enjoys foreplay, it's never really something he got to do, unless it involved him sucking someone off before they fucked him. He loves how Harry's so attentive and generous in bed, always makes him so desperate for it.

"You look so good fucking yourself on my fingers, Lou, so fucking hot," Harry says, leaning to capture Louis' lips as he fingers him, Louis moaning into Harry's mouth.

"Always talk so dirty when we have sex," Louis says, laughing breathily as Harry pulls back.

"Must be the effect you have on me," Harry says, taking one of Louis' nipples in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, biting down slightly. Louis yelps, a moan leaving his mouth when Harry soothes over the sensitive nipple with his tongue.

"Fuck, Harry, I'll come if you keep doing that," Louis says, unable to hold back a loud moan as Harry pushes a third finger inside him, ducking down and sucking the head of Louis c*ck into his mouth. "That's-" Louis whines high in his throat, fingers tearing at the sheets, forcing his hips to stay still as Harry deepthroats him and fucks his fingers in at a fast pace. "Shit, Harry, I'm gunna come if you don't stop," Louis warns him, closing his eyes because he can't watch Harry suck him off or he'll come down his throat.

Louis is literally just about to warn Harry that he's about to come when he pulls off, Louis' eyes flying open, chest heaving with heavy breaths.

"Sorry, love, gunna fuck you now," he says, pressing a quick kiss to Louis' lips, giving him a cheeky smile. Louis rolls his eyes, watching as Harry slicks himself up, stroking himself as Louis rubs circles into his hip with his thumb, still struggling to catch his breath. "Ready?" Harry asks, leaning over him, positioning himself at Louis' entrance. Louis nods, biting down on his lip as Harry begins to push in.

"Fuck," Louis draws out as Harry bottoms out, nails digging into his biceps.

"Jesus, Lou, so fucking perfect," he says ducking his head and pressing his face to Louis' sweaty neck, kissing the skin there.

"Move, fuck, move, Harry," Louis begs, locking his legs behind Harry's back, pressing him closer with the heels of his feet. Harry complies, both of them moaning loudly when he starts to build a rhythm. "D-Don't stop, just like that," Louis breathes, pushing his fingers into his own hair, tugging slightly.

Harry fucks him harder now, moaning in pleasure every time he pushes back in, loving how tight Louis is around his c*ck and the way that Louis cries out with each thrust, cheeks flushed and lips bitten red.

"Fuck, baby," is all Harry can say, fingers digging into Louis' hips as he fucks him, unable to tear his eyes away from Louis face.

"Feels so good- ughn- so fucking good," Louis moans, moving a hand down to stroke himself, focused entirely on the pleasure running through him.

"Louis, sweetheart, want you to ride me," Harry whispers into Louis' ear, who whines in response, nodding desperately. Harry flips them quickly so Louis is on top, Harry's c*ck still inside him. "Fuck, look so good, baby," Harry tells him as Louis starts to lift himself up, dropping back down and moaning at the feel of Harry settling in him even deeper.

"Shit," Louis breathes, bouncing on Harry's c*ck, running his own hands over his nipples, mewling in pleasure. Harry can hardly take it. "Harry," he gasps, because that's all he can think of right now.

"S'it baby, riding me so good, Lou," he praises, taking his hips and guiding him, sitting him down and grinding his hips against Harry, causing Louis' breath to stutter and catch in his throat. Louis' small hands go to rest on Harry's chest, pressing down as he continues to ride Harry so fucking good.

"M'close, Haz," Louis manages, out of breath. Harry can see his thighs shaking as he gets closer so he lifts Louis' hips slightly and lets him lay down on his chest as he fucks up into him from underneath, both of them crying out. "M'gunna- shit, need-"

Harry takes Louis' c*ck in his hand, stroking him twice before he comes all over both their chests, moaning loudly, fucking his hips back down onto Harry's d*ck as he rides out his orgasm. Harry can barely take the way Louis' clenching around him and he can't hold back any longer when Louis presses their lips together, kissing him sweetly, whining quietly into his mouth as Harry comes inside him.

"I love you," Harry whispers when he stills his hips, smiling up at Louis. Louis smiles back, giving him lots of little kisses, fingers resting on his jaw. He pulls back, cloudy blue eyes scanning Harry's face, like he can't believe he's even real.

"Love you too," he whispers back, their lips meeting again for a slow kiss. When being inside Louis gets to be too much Harry breaks their kiss, lifting Louis' hips gently and pulling out. "Mmm," Louis whines, "gunna have to shower now," he says, feeling Harry's come drip down the inside of his thigh.

"I'll use a condom next time," Harry replies and Louis rolls his eyes, getting off his lap and heading into the bathroom.

"We both know that's not true, plus, I don't really mind," Louis says, reaching into the shower and flicking it on before stepping in. He sighs, letting the hot water wash away all the sweat and come from his skin. "You coming in?" Louis asks, smirking at where he can see Harry watching him from their bed.

"Fine," Harry sighs, standing and coming to join Louis under the water, kissing him quiet for a few minutes, both of their heart rates still racing.

Louis washes Harry's hair for him, using the stupid organic shampoo he likes and Harry leans into his touch, smiling.

"Like a little kitten," Louis comments as Harry practically purrs. He raises a brow at that though.

"Little?"

"Mmm," Louis hums, holding back his laughs.

"I think you're mistaken, love," he says, his hands moving to Louis ribs.

"No, Harry, no-" He's cut off by his own shrieks as Harry begins tickling him, slipping as he tries to get away, but Harry doesn't let him fall, holding him tight and running his merciless fingers everywhere he knows Louis is most ticklish.

"Still think I'm small?" Harry asks and Louis just yelps, squirming in his grip, giggles spilling from his lips.

"You're tiny!" He yells, the sound of his lovely laughs echoing in the bathroom, the whole room full of happiness. Harry leans forward and blows a raspberry on his neck and Louis squeals, hands shoving at him to get away. "Okay, okay, you're tall, so tall, huge, a giant!" Louis finally shouts, unable to take anymore.

"Thank you, baby, so nice of you to say so," Harry says, finally ceasing his fingers. Louis has to catch his breath, glaring at Harry, but there's a playful glint in his eyes and his cheeks are flushed with happiness and he can't help the small smile on his lips. "Don't worry, I'll love you even if you are small," Harry tells him, like it's a secret. Louis looks scandalised, smacking his shoulder.

"I'm 5'9", Harry, I thought we'd established that," Louis huffs and Harry smiles fondly.

"Course, pumpkin, I know, now turn around so I can give you a proper rub down," he says, smacking Louis' arse as he turns, both of them laughing.

-

Later that evening when Louis' sat in the lounge, watching Big Brother while struggling to eat his chinese take out with chopsticks, Harry feels a little nervous.

He wants to talk to Louis about something but he's not sure how well it will go down. It's been weighing on his mind for a while now but he's just not been able to shake it from his thoughts.

"Fuck it," Harry mutters, heading into the living room and sitting beside Louis, who automatically plonks himself into Harry's lap, handing him his chopsticks, silently demanding Harry does it for him. "So bossy," Harry hums as he picks out a piece of chicken and eats it for himself.

"Heeey," Louis whines, making Harry laugh with his mouth full.

"Here," he says, picking out another piece and letting Louis eat this one. He feeds him for another few minutes, both of them watching in silence before Louis speaks up.

"Look, Haz, you've been weird since this morning, if you want to say something, just tell me, okay?"

"I-" Harry stops himself, sighing, thinking that he should have known better than to try and keep things from Louis. "I think we should go and see your family," he finally says. Louis freezes in his lap before fully turning to face him.

"What?"

"I just- I want you to be happy and I- I think seeing your family would help you, y'know? I saw the way you looked at me when I brought you to see my Mum and sister for lunch the other day, Lou..."

"Harry I- I don't even know where they are, they probably don't even live in the same place anymore and-"

"I looked her up, on Facebook," Harry says and Louis looks shocked.

"Facebook?"

"Yeah, her second name has changed, so it was kind of hard to find her, but I searched for Lottie, y'know you told me about her? And she's still got the same second name as you, but your mum's has changed," he explains, worried Louis' suddenly going to explode on him.

"You- Her name is changed?"

"Yeah, it's Johannah Deakin now," Harry tells him, "she has her location listed on Facebook, we could go and see her tomorrow-"

"I want to see her now," Louis cuts him off, surprising him. "Please, Harry, can we go right now?" He asks, eyes begging. Harry's stunned, silent, but he nods slowly.

"Sure, babe, I mean-"

"Shit, gunna go and change into something better-"

"Louis, Louis, sweetheart, I'm sure she won't care what you're wearing, she'll just be happy to see you," Harry tells his boyfriend, cupping his cheeks and kissing his hair, trying to get him to calm down.

"Harry, I haven't seen my mum seven years, and now you know where she is and I'm- I'm not fucked up anymore, I've made something of my life and I want her to be proud of me and I want to apologise for being a shit son," Louis says hurriedly. Harry nods, brushing the boys fringe back from his eyes, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"I know, darling, and we'll do that, but calm down, yeah?" He says gently, smiling. Louis sighs, smiling a little.

"Just excited," he mumbles and Harry tips his chin up to kiss him. "Thank you," Louis whispers against his lips and Harry brushes their noses together in a sweet Eskimo kiss.

"Let's go," Harry says, taking Louis' hand and helping him up, both of them hurrying to find their shoes.

-

When they pull up to the drive listed as their destination on the SATNAV, Louis is silent.

"You're sure this is right?" Louis says, voice strained.

"I double checked," he replies, looking out towards the huge house.

"It's not, um- like, I didn't think it would be like this," Louis says and Harry nods his agreement.

"Wanna go in?" Harry asks, shutting off the engine. Louis swallows.

"I don't know, what if she doesn't want to see me?" He says, nerves flooding his voice.

"Louis, you were the one who insisted we leave at seven o'clock in the evening," Harry reminds him and Louis groans, placing his hands over his face and dragging them down.

"I know, but now I don't think I can," he whines. Harry pulls his hands away, forcing Louis to look at him.

"Louis, if you don't do this now, you won't do it ever, you'll be too scared to even come back, let alone get to the door, so let's just do it, okay? I'm gunna be right here with you, I promise," Harry tells him and Louis feels his heart clench because fuck, he loves Harry and if there's one thing he knows, it's that Harry doesn't made promises he can't keep.

"Okay," Louis breathes out, opening the door and stepping out.

"M'not going anywhere," Harry says, getting out of the car and locking it, coming round and lacing his fingers with Louis' as they walk up the long drive, their feet crunching on the gravel.

They met in March, when it was still bitterly cold in England because the winters seem to drag on forever, but four months later it was well into summer and the night was still warm, the sun still trying to force some light into the sky, oranges losing the fight against the dark blue night sky.

"Sky's nice," Louis comments, obviously trying to distract himself from his nerves, so Harry humuors him.

"Love nights like this," he agrees, swinging their joined hands between them happily. Louis tries to hold back his smile but can't, rolling his eyes at Harry's stupidity. "Love you," Harry add and this time Louis smiles fully, squeezing Harry's hand.

"I love you too," Louis sighs, dragging Harry the rest of the way up to the door. They stand there for a moment before Harry reaches out to knock.

"Wait!" Louis says, grabbing his hand. "I'll do it, just give me a second," he says and Harry nods, biting back his smile. Louis takes a deep breath with his eyes closed before knocking. "Shit, of fuck, is there time to go back I-"

"Hello?" It's a guy that looks to be around his late-forties that answers the door, looking confused to see two guys holding hands on his doorstep. Harry's worried he might say something homophobic when Louis speaks.

"Um, hi, is um, Johannah in? Johannah Tomlinson?"

"Yeah, she is... It's Johannah Deakin now, mate," he says and Louis realises this must be his mother's new husband; his step-dad.

"Oh, um, well, could I speak to her?" He asks and the guy looks a bit skeptical, opening the door and stepping into the frame, folding his arms over his chest.

"Got any reason?"

"Um, well-"

"That's her son," Harry fills in, knowing Louis' not doing so well with the speaking side of things at the moment.

"You're- You're Louis?" He asks, looking shocked. Louis swallows nervously, his hand slightly clammy in Harry's. Harry just squeezes it encouragingly.

"Yeah," he manages.

"Holy shit," he mutters, "never thought I'd see the day," he says, smiling. "Come in, mate, I'm Dan, s'nice to finally meet you," he rambles, ushering them both inside, closing the door.

The house is beautiful; the hallway is large and modern, a wonderful oak staircase leading upstairs, doorways tall and the design very open. But it's also very... Tomlinson. The floors are littered with barbie paraphernalia as well as clips and hairbrushes, books and shoes; a maze of toys.

"Sorry about the mess, things have been a little hectic lately with the twins," Dan says, bringing Louis back to the present.

"They still just as manic?" Louis manages to ask, smiling at the thought of Daisy and Phoebe. Fuck, they're going to be so different.

"Still?" Dan asks, "mate, they only just got here," he says, laughing as they head into the kitchen. Louis stands, frozen on the spot when he sees his mother with her back them, one baby- that can't be older than a year- in her arms as she tries to get it to drink from a bottle, the other in a high chair. "Love, someone here to see you," Dan says, coming to stand by her side.

She smiles up at her husband before turning, the bottle in her hands clattering to the floor.

Louis wants to run, wants to hide away and yell he's sorry without having to look her in the eyes, but he can't. He's firmly rooted to where he's stood, unable to even speak.

"Louis?" His mother breathes, eyes filling with tears.

"Hey, Mum," he whispers, voice choked with emotion.

Johannah passes her young child to Dan, coming round the counter in the middle of the kitchen to stand in front of Louis, tears falling down her cheeks. Harry can see where Louis got his good looks from because she's beautiful.

"Can I hug you?" She asks, biting down on her bottom lip. Louis looks to Harry who finally lets go of his hand, nodding his encouragement. Louis turns back, nodding to his mother who looks relieved, stepping forward and enveloping him in a hug. "I missed you so much, Louis, you don't understand, I- I tried so hard to find you, I thought about you every day, I still do, God," she breathes, hugging him tighter. Louis presses his face into her neck and just enjoys the feeling of being in his mother's arms.

"I missed you too, Mum," Louis whispers, "I'm so sorry," he says and Johannah shakes her head, pulling back, hands on his shoulders.

"I wasn't a mother to you, Louis, when your father died I- I was a mess, Louis, God, I'm so sorry you had to go through that," she tells him, wiping away her tears, shaking her head. "Look at you," she breathes, laughing a little, "my boy, all grown up and perfect."

"Mum, I-"

"What's in the past is in the past," she cuts him off, "you're here now, I've got my son back and don't you think for a second I'm going to let you go again," she says fiercely, pulling him in for another hug. "I want you to meet your new brother and sister, Doris and Ernest, they were born six months ago," she says, walking back over to her husband and taking the infant from him. "Come and hold your baby sister," she says and Louis hesitates for a second before complying.

Louis takes the baby girl in his arms like she's made of glass, feeling like he can barely breathe. She's so tiny and clean and new. She blinks up at him, reaching out a hand and Louis lets her wrap her palm around one of his fingers, knowing that babies like doing that.

"She's perfect," Louis whispers and Johannah smiles, nodding, still trying to stop her tears.

"You're still a natural with babies," she says, making both of them laugh. "Want to hold Ernest? He's probably a little jealo-"

"Mum, Felicite's locked herself in the bathroom and is refusing to come out, can you tell her it's my turn in the bathroom?"

Louis looks up, seeing Lottie stood in the doorway to the kitchen. When she spots her brother she looks like she's seen a ghost.

She's sixteen now, will be turning seventeen in August and she was only about eleven when Louis left home, but it's clear she remembers him, just like Louis remembers her, despite the fact she's changed so much. She looks like a young woman now, something Louis definitely doesn't remember. She's beautiful.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" She spits, turning to her mother. Johannah looks shocked and Louis can hardly breathe, his baby sister still held in his arms. "And who the fuck is this?" She asks, turning to Harry, pointing.

"Charlotte, how dare you-"

"How dare I?" she asks, laughing like she can't believe it, "how like how dare he just up and leave because things were getting difficult? When we had nothing he just decided it was time to go because he didn't want to be tied down to us anymore? You don't get to choose your family, Louis, you can't just come back whenever you like and expect us to be the same. Why are you letting him do this, Mum, remember how hard things were for us that year? Don't you remember how the girls went hungry and without school shoes?"

"Lottie, I-" Louis tries to speak but can't because his sister cuts him off again.

"No!" She yells, causing the two twins to start crying. Dan steps in, taking Doris from Louis and Ernest from Johannah, shushing them as he carries them from the room to be away from the noise. "Don't-" Lottie stops because she's about to cry and she doesn't want Louis to see that, doesn't want him to know how much pain he's caused her, "do you know how many times I used to sit at the window of my bedroom, waiting for the day you'd come home? Because I do. I know that the rest of the girls used to cry at night because their brother wasn't there to read them a story like he should have been. Where the fuck did you go? What could have been more important that being with your own fucking family?" She shrieks, in hysterics, tears pouring down her face.

Louis shakes his head, his own eyes full of tears.

"I'm so sorry," Louis whispers, "I didn't- I was just seventeen, Lottie, I didn't-"

"And I was eleven!" She yells back, furious, "get out of my house! I don't want you in my life! You chose to leave, you don't get to pick and choose when you want a family!"

"Please, Lottie-"

"You're a complete joke, Louis, and you're not my brother any more than you're her son," she says flatly before leaving the room, her footsteps sounding as she runs up the stairs.

Louis chokes, turning and heading for the door before Harry catches him, forcing him to stay still.

"Let go of me, Harry," Louis sobs, tugging against Harry's grip, but Harry just holds him tight, shaking his head, heart aching for the boy in his arms. "She's right, she's right, I'm such a poor excuse for a brother, I don't know what I thought coming back here would do-"

"Shh, shh, it's okay, Louis, she's just angry, that's all, she'll come round. She wasn't going to forgive you straight away, it's just going to take time, that's all, you were so brave for coming here, baby, I'm so proud of you," Harry tells him, kissing his hair, holding him as he cries.

"I want to be with her now, I missed her so much," Louis cries, unable to hold in his emotions despite how hard he tries.

"I know, sweetheart, but these things take time to heal, but we've got all the time in the world, Louis, just gotta be patient," Harry tells him, rocking them both gently to soothe his boyfriend.

Johannah watches on, astounded. She'd never really known her son was gay, not that it mattered to her, but seeing him in the arms of another boy made her heart ache; knowing that he'd fallen in love without her knowing, had probably gone through so many things without her there.

And the thing is, Lottie had a right to be angry, but if she was angry at Louis, she should also be mad at her for forcing Louis away. She knew Louis shouldn't have been holding down two jobs when he was only sixteen, dropping out of school to care for them when she couldn't. Of course she was trying her hardest, but she let that happen; she let Louis take on the responsibilities of a father when he was just a young boy.

Her reaction at first had been the same as Lottie's; she'd been angry at Louis for abandoning them, but it was Louis leaving that made her realise she had to get her life together before any more of her children left. She had to be a mother to the children she still had. A year later and she was starting to get her life back on track, then she met Dan. After meeting Dan she never had any more problems, marrying him two years later and having two more beautiful babies to be thankful for.

She knows Louis made a mistake, but so did she. It wasn't about who's mistake was bigger or who caused those things to happen, it was about Louis being here now. He'd come back even though he had no obligation to, he'd come back and that's all Johannah needed to forgive her son. Lottie just couldn't see past her anger to realise that yet.

"Louis, honey," Johannah says gently, "do you want to go and sit in the living room with Dan while I go and talk to Lottie? I think she just needs to calm down, it's shocked her, is all."

"Maybe I should come back tomorrow?" Louis says tiredly, rubbing at his eyes.

"No, no, you two can stay here for the night, please, I want a chance to catch up with you... I want to know all about you two," she says, giving them both a smile. Louis laughs, cheeks colouring slightly.

"Okay," he finally agrees, "thank you, Mum, I- I love you," he says and Johannah beams, leaning forward and kissing her son's cheek.

"I love you too, Louis."

She leaves the room then and Harry and Louis decide to stay in the kitchen for now, waiting until things calm down. Harry strokes his fingers through Louis' hair, telling him about how when they get home he's gunna run Louis a really hot bath for him to relax in, making him laugh when he presses small kisses to his neck teasingly, threatening to give him a hickey if he doesn't smile.

"S'all gunna be okay," Harry says, looking into Louis' eyes that remind him of the sea on a stormy day, "we'll get past this and everything will be okay," Harry tells him. Louis smiles, standing up on his tiptoes and pressing a kiss to Harry's lips.

"Love you," he whispers against his mouth, kissing him deeper, pressing closer. He's just about to back Harry up against the counter when someone clears their throat.

Louis pulls away so fast Harry almost falls over, stumbling slightly.

"Um-"

"Guess I'll have to keep an eye on you two," Johannah says, but she's smiling so widely her cheeks hurt. Lottie is stood beside her, a small smile on her face too.

"So even my brother managed to get a boyfriend before me," she says, smirking.

Louis knows he's not forgiven, but it's a start. Just when Louis' about to reply his other sisters appear in the kitchen, so grown up and so lovely he doesn't believe it.

"Louis!" Daisy and Phoebe cry, running for him and throwing themselves into his arms. Louis laughs, winded, but catches them, bending down to hug them, heart hammering.

"We missed you so much, Louis, we thought you weren't coming back," Daisy says, touching his face, frowning at the prickly feel of his stubble. "You didn't have this before, Louis," she comments and Harry laughs, drawing all attention to himself. He coughs, shuffling awkwardly.

"You didn't have him before either, Louis, who is this?" She asks as Louis stands, going to wrap his arm round Harry's waist.

"This is Harry, my boyfriend," Louis says, blushing slightly. The twins giggle and Lottie smiles along with her Mum. Felicite, who was always more shy, waves at Louis and he waves back, feeling sad knowing he's damaged their relationship so much but also knowing he's going to make sure he makes it up. He's not going anywhere now he has his family back.

"Well, if you haven't eaten anything we were going to order pizza and watch a movie together," Johannah says, arms round her two eldest daughters. Louis nods, looking to Harry for confirmation, who just squeezes his hip.

"I uh- That would be great, thank you, I'd love that," Louis says and they all head into the living room, the girls arguing about who sits where and who gets which kind of pizza before Dan reminds them they can each have their own. Johannah lets Harry and Louis hold the babies, Harry completely fonding because he loves anything small and cute and- everything is okay.

It's not perfect, Louis' life never really has been, but it's getting there.

Things are going to be okay.


End file.
